Ghosts of Desperation
by sherazard
Summary: [GS implied] He just can't stay in the present. He can't remember the past. And he will never see his future.


**Title: Ghosts of Desperation**  
Pairing: G/S implied, sort of.  
Rating: PG-13 for some potty mouth and sexual imagery.  
Disclaimer: CBS pwnz CSI. Which makes baby Jesus cry. Oh, and me too. TT  
Spoilers: Since most places are doing S5 reruns...I don't think there are any. But I will say **Butterflied** just for the sake of safety.  
**Summary: He just can't stay in the present. He can't remember the past. And he will never see his future.**  
Thanks To: **Amanda**, who beta'd this fic for me and said that it was good. And also told me that I get my tenses confused up, and said that my characterization wasn't crappy. Trust me, that last one meant a lot.

_Tendrils of pain flash and trickle through his brain._

In this moment, he is no longer himself, but a vague abstraction of desperation, anger and loss. A shade that just doesn't know how to let go, doesn't know how to die, not understanding that he is dead already.

By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--  
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,  
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---  
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?

"Give me the gun."

_Why do they want it? It is of no value to them; but to him, it is the only thing he has left. The only thing that can help him, that can offer him the peace and rest that no one else is willing to give._

He knows that they know what a gunshot to the head, whether he eats the gun or fires it from under his chin, looks like in the aftermath. There would be blood and brain and bits of skull everywhere, there would be blowback spatter and the lifeless corpse that he will vacate. It would be fatal and nobody could save him. That's the whole point; didn't they understand that he didn't want to be saved?

"Just give me the gun. It'll be okay."

_They don't know what the hell they are talking about. It wouldn't be 'okay' it would never be just 'okay'. Ever. She's a liar, a fucking liar, just like the rest of them. All he asked for was a little honesty, was that really too much? This isn't the first time women lied to him, but if he has anything to say about it, it would be the last damned time. Lying bitches, the lot of them._

"Please, give me the gun. We'll find her, you can see her again, please, give me the gun."

_No, no, he wasn't going to give them the gun and he will never see her again. Good riddance; she's like them too and he would bet a year's worth of pay that she'd be here, doing the same damn thing, asking the same shit, give me the gun. No, he wasn't going to give her the fucking gun, and she knows it, so why is she asking the same fucking questions over and over?_

"She's here now, she is. Here, here, she's here. Talk to her, okay? She's here."

_Liar._

"Hey sweetheart."

_Damn. Shit, she really is here. What the hell is she doing here, why did she come back? She isn't supposed to be here._

"You…you aren't supposed to be here."

"Well, you aren't supposed to be holding a gun to your head, either."

"Says who?" _He asks sullenly. She still knows how to get under his skin, how to push his buttons and drive him straight up the wall, across the line to sobriety. Stupid, stupid girl._

"Give me the gun."

"And if I say no?"

"I'll take it from you."

_Always so confident, always so sure, so damn cocky. Smirking, he unlocks the safety and cocks the hammer. The 'cli-click' of the action thunders in the small room and she isn't so confident anymore. She's sheet white, eyes wide, looking scared and frightened and pained. Serves her right, for coming back._

"Please, just, just give me the gun."

"Do you always stutter?" _He'd mock her a little, toy with her, just like she'd done to him._

"No, no, I-I, just, please, give me the gun. I won't hurt you, please, I want the gun."

"You have your own, this is mine. Go play with your own." _Her gun is on her hip, so why does she want his? Was she so blind? He waves with his free hand. _"You have it right there. Why do you want mine?"

_She blinks and steps closer. He steps back, evening out the distance between them. He doesn't want her anywhere near him, her proximity makes him boil, makes him want to throw her down on the floor and take her, rape her, make her scream out her hatred for him, mark her his and leave her there, filthy and dirty._

"Please, give me the gun."

"You step closer again and I'll take you with me. Do you want to die?"

"No, no I don't. I can't, there are people who need me. Who need you."

_He scoffs. There she goes, lying again. Always lying, always._ "I need you," _she says, pleading with him. Damn liar. Lies, all lies._ "Please?"

_The metal presses harder now, and he feels a perverse pleasure as she flinches, the softest of sobs leaving her pretty lips. Yes, that's right, feel the pain and know that you're helpless. You can't do anything, you can only watch; his own thoughts make him want to laugh. Laugh at her face. He smirks again and takes another step backwards. She doesn't follow, and the gap is bigger now._

"I hope the new paint scheme will be that nice shade of red you always liked."

"I'm sorry!" _she shouts, hands shaking._ "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't do this, I'll go with you, please, I promise!"

"Your fucking 'sorrys' are too late. You weren't very 'sorry' when you ran into his arms, so forgive me if it's a little hard to believe you. I hope the taste of this irony goes down smooth."

"No! No, please. Don't do this. I'll tell you everything, I won't lie to you again, please, I promise, I promise, I'll be good. Please."

"Is he worth it, Debbie? He'll never be good enough for you, you stupid bitch! So why! WHY!" _The pressure must be hard enough to leave a good bruise, and it makes him angry and excited at the same time. Angry because it's not enough and happy because it won't be just a phantom memory. It will be real, unforgettable._

_She sobs and doesn't answer. A liar who thinks she knows all, but in the end knows nothing, can't answer any of his questions, can't ever tell him why. She doesn't even know why and that makes him so angry. He wants to know, he needs to know. Otherwise, he'll go insane._

"Why what?" _She's whispering, shaking, barely holding herself together. This is a first, seeing her without that arrogant, sensual composure she always had. It's a well-earned memory he'll relish._

"Why him? I loved you, loved you more and better than him! So what was it about him that you wanted so much? I gave you everything!" _He pushes the barrel harder, wanting to pull the trigger, squeeze and let it all end, but no, not until he gets his answer._ "Answer me!"

"I can't! I love him, I don't know why, I just do. I can't explain things like that, I don't know how. Please, please stop this."

_She infuriates him; always had. Once upon a time that might have been a precursor to something more, but no longer. It just pisses him off, makes him wish she'd die. Die and leave him in peace. But no, she'd never die, would never leave him alone; she would always haunt him, awake or asleep._

_This will never stop, not until something or someone gives. He knows that, and he won't give her the satisfaction of making him give, of making him surrender. He had pride, and he would never let her or anyone else do that to him again._

_He's still here. He's still here but he doesn't want to be. He tired of being here, being himself because apparently, being himself isn't enough, and won't ever be. In order to be with her, he has to be somebody else, somebody younger and better looking. And since that's not possible, there is nothing else left to do. She's a lost cause, so is he, and it's all hopeless. So goddamn hopeless._

_It finally dawns that she's never carried a gun before. He never remembered her having one, and he's pretty sure that she isn't the type. She's the love-peace type of girl, so why did she carry one? Was this a recent development? Did something happen in her neighbourhood? There's something about her that doesn't seem quite right, something that is bothering him._

"Why…why are you here?" _He's calmer now. Calm, but still so infuriated; he has to control himself, control everything._

"Because you asked me to be here. You want me to be here, don't you?" _Stupid, thinking she knows everything._

"No. No, I don't want you here. I want you dead. I want you to **die.**" _He can't control himself, god, not when she was concerned. He remembers her gasps and moans as he took her roughly in that storage closet during his break. Her nails had dug into his shoulder, his rough cheeks scratching hers as she choked on his name, choking on him and his cock. As much as she pisses him off, he has to admit that she's a damn good fuck._

_More voices now; clipped, angry ones. This is a trap. He is so pissed, so incredibly pissed._ "You bitch."

_There is no time left. Whoever is outside, most likely cops, are calling him, telling him to come out with his hands behind his head. Fuck them. And fuck her. He isn't going to let them get him without a fight. He won't go down without leaving a lasting mark. And he has just the means to do it._

_Guns are so powerful. One single shot can kill a man. He loves it. But he prefers his scalpels; they could cut so deep without much effort. But guns have their own appeal; he squeezes the trigger and there's a small explosion of red. A strangled scream and then bright lights. Someone is screaming, and he's pretty sure it isn't him or her._

_Pain explodes; god, what the hell was this? There's suddenly no strength left in him, he falls to the already blood-slicked floor with a thump. His strings are cut, he has no life left. There are holes, and lots of people suddenly stampeding into the room. Who were all these people!_

_She is suddenly standing over him, eyes wide and dark and wet with tears. Those eyes are sad._ "Dr. Lurie, my name is Sara, not Debbie. Debbie's dead, you killed her."

_Oh._

---

And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;  
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor  
Shall be lifted---nevermore!


End file.
